


And Nothing Else Matters

by poisontaster



Series: Winsister [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-05
Updated: 2008-02-05
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:59:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2189181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows immediately from "Leave Everything and Go." Fitting Sam back into the family isn't getting any easier. Addie needs to know things with Dean, at least, haven't changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Nothing Else Matters

Urgent but quiet tapping at the bathroom door. Sam's voice hissing through the cracks, "Addie. Addie, I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_. But seriously, I need to piss. _Addie._ Christ, come on…"

She comes back to herself and she's sitting on the toilet with no idea how long she's been there. Her forefinger goes around and around on her mouth and when she catches herself doing it, she makes her hand fall, fisted, into her lap. Both hands, fisted, in her lap.

Sam kissed her.

Sam kissed her and the…the _look_ in his eyes, the exhausted, bitter resignation…

Sam kissed her and now he needs to pee.

Addie gets up from the commode gracelessly, crashing her knee into the sharp Formica edge of the sink stand. She yowls soundlessly, grabbing the porcelain for support with one hand and clutching her knee with the other. She catches a glance of herself in the mirror, eyes staring, mouth open, and looks away, groping for the doorknob instead.

She hobbles out and past Sam, not even looking at him. She looks at Dean, still sleeping, his back to them. She looks at Dean and she goes to Dean and she burrows under the covers, ignoring the pain in her knee, pressing herself into his spine, pressing her face between the sharp wings of his scapulae.

"Hey." A sleepy mumble, rough and slurring. Dean stirs, trying to turn over, trying to reach for her and failing because she's too close. "Hey, babylove."

There are two things in the world Dean Winchester calls _baby_ : his car and her.

Addie's breath hitches. She doesn't know why she's so afraid. She _hates_ being afraid, but her heart is slamming against her ribs like a fist. She holds very still while Dean shifts around her, digs his arm under her and folds her in. His skin smells like old liquor and sleep. It's a little like Dad—John's—smell, but mostly it's like Dean.

"Hey." Dean's morning breath is atrocious but he kisses the top of her head so gently. So fucking gently. "What's up?"

"I." She doesn't know. Not really. So Sam kissed her, so what? She kisses Dean all the time and a lot more dirtily.

Sam left. Sam _left._

_(but he's back now)_

Dean's hand wanders down her back, curves familiarly over her rump, tugging her in. Addie realizes she's holding her breath because she's expecting it to be weird. She's expecting it to be all turned around and changed, but it's not. It's just Dean.

"Sam's in the bathroom," she whispers.

Dean's eyes flick up and past her. There's a wail and a groan as the plumbing shakes to life. When Dean looks back, his lips are curled up lazily. "Taking a shower." His hips move, poking her in the belly with his morning wood and she realizes he's misinterpreted her, misinterpreted it all.

She curls her fingers around him, through his boxers, anyway. Because she can. "Do you ever…think about Sam?"

Dean's eyes are hazy and half-lidded with remaining sleep and awaking lust. His mouth is half-open. He looks up from the exploratory circles his thumb is making around her nipple and his eyebrows dip in. "Think about him how?"

Addie looks back.

Dean is slow to follow her, distracted by the slow pull-squeeze of her fingers around his dick. When he figures it out, he looks surprised. "I. No. I. No. No." He reaches down, slipping under the waist of her boxers, hooking between her legs to tease her clit. Helpfully, Addie slings her leg over his hip and he wiggles that much closer. "Do you?"

"No." He hits her good and she hisses, back arching, eyes closing.

"Then…why?"

Addie shrugs, leaning in to lick his mouth, sloppy, teasing. His head darts to kiss her and she pulls back, mocking. "I just… I wanted to know why he would… He asked me. If that was what we wanted."

Dean lifts his head to look over her shoulder at the bathroom. Distantly, she wonders if Sam's jerking off in there, thinking about her or thinking about his dead girlfriend or if, like her, he's just shell shocked by the whole thing. Dean flops back down and looks at her again, fingers sliding deeper, slipping in. Addie shifts, lets him in, the rub slow and good like the creeping burn of alcohol. "Is that…? Last night?"

"I think so." She'd never seen Sam so fucked up, ripped open, raw and blindly drunk. It bothered her.

_I'm a third fucking wheel!_

It hurt her, more than she'd thought it would.

Damn Sam, anyway.

"Do you?" Dean snaps his hips, trying to fuck deeper into her grip. "C'mon, Addie," he whines a second later. "Quit playing. _Please._ "

A wolfish baring of her teeth; she tugs his boxers down, frees his cock, slapping into her hand like he was made for her fingers to hold. At skin to skin contact, Dean groans, skimming through her hand slow and easy. She lets him kiss her then, long and lingering and hungry. Always hungry. "Do you?" she asks in return. Her mouth is tingling, raw and swollen.

"I asked first."

"I just want to know why he thinks that. Why he thinks we would want that." The shower still rains onward and Addie jerks Dean faster, rougher. Dean's hand not between her legs clutches her shoulder. Dean whimpers and twists his head to nuzzle her neck, suck lightly at her skin. "I just… I don't know what to do with him."

"I think that goes both ways," Dean answers, sounding breathless, muffled. "C'mon. He's gonna be out soon. Just…kiss it, Addie. Just a little. Please?"

"You know it's different with us, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Dean agrees breathlessly and she rolls her eyes because he'd agree to just about anything right now and none of it can be trusted or even be expected to be remembered.

"I don't want him to leave." There. She said it. She can say it _because_ Dean won't remember this later. "Dean. I don't want Sam to leave again."

"I don't…ah, fuck, Addie, like that… I don't want him. To leave either." Dean's fingers work her faster, harder, coaxing her to come along with him. "C'mon, Addie. Your mouth. Please. Just a little. Just a little. Just want your mouth on me, baby."

Addie kisses Dean to shut him up, dirty talk fading into incoherent grunts and whines as she twists her grip just like he likes it. Dean's easy like that.

Whatever. It's fine. It's fine. _She_ knows it's different and that's probably what matters.


End file.
